


The Dead Men - Early Years

by hrhowling



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhowling/pseuds/hrhowling
Summary: The early years of the Dead Men: Infancy through to young adulthood. The ups and downs of their lives before they all found each other.





	The Dead Men - Early Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erskine was one of those rare babies that slept through most of the night without fuss a lot of fuss. His mother often didn't' know whether to be relieved or worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Erskine-centric story. It's cute compared to my other ones, I promise.

Circe Clotho considered herself to be a reasonable woman. While she was, at times, rather bold and demanding compared to most women of this land and era, she didn’t find anything particularly wrong with that. After all, where was the issue in insisting she had the same rights as her husband? It wasn’t as if she was forcing him onto a lower pedestal, and he was taller than her anyway, so technically she wasn’t above him.

Yes, Circe Moira considered herself to be reasonable, particularly when it came to parenting. She was firm when she needed to be, but loved her children unconditionally and gave them everything they needed. She’d taught her two daughters, Petra and Achelois, how to provide for themselves and the resolve necessary to put up with society as it was now, and intended to do the same for her newest child, Midas.

It was late at night on a Sunday. Circe was sat in the drawing room, reading Greek prose by the light of the fireplace with her cat Jürgen curled up on the arm of her chair. Her husband was away on Sanctuary business and most of the house was asleep by now. It was silent save for the soft crackling of burning logs and the flicking of pages.

Scratch that. She heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing. With a sigh, she marked her page and set it aside, looking up to see her eldest, Petra rushing in.

“Petra, what is-?”

“Midas isn’t crying!” Petra wailed, already halfway to hysterics. “I went to check on him and he _isn’t crying_!”

Immediately, Circe was on her feet and quickly striding past her daughter. With contained panic fuelling her pace, she made her way to her bedchamber where Midas lay in his crib, sleeping.

Petra soon came up behind her, on the verge of tears.

“Ο Δίας μου βοηθά,” Circe muttered under her breath, turning to her daughter. “He is _asleep_ , you silly girl.”

“But he’s not crying!” Petra protested. “Babies are meant to cry, aren’t they?!”

“Petra, we’ve had him for a week, and so far, he’s managed to sleep through most nights,” Circe grumbled, raising an eyebrow. “The fact that he’s not crying is a _good thing_. It means we can get a full night’s sleep like the ones you and your sister denied me when you were born.”

Petra’s face went slack. “…Oh…”

“Go back to sleep, Petra. You have work tomorrow, do you not?”

Nodding, Petra gave her infant brother a final glance and left the room. Circe sighed in exasperation and leaned over the crib to look at Midas, still sleeping as peacefully as ever, one tiny hand clutching his blanket.

He was so _small_. Regardless of what she said to Petra, her little boy’s silence still worried her. Born early as he was, there were so many risks in his future that it was understandable for Petra to be worried the way she was.

But it wasn’t Petra’s job to worry. It was hers. She was supposed to be the one lying awake at night and listening to her son’s breathing in the way the woman who’d given birth to him wouldn’t have done had she lived and kept him. She was supposed to be the one who got up every hour to check on him and make sure he wasn’t hungry or cold.

“I can still see you,” she whispered, reaching a hand down to stroke the soft black hair that topped his head. “Growing strong and bright and wonderful.”

Her vision flashed with red and gold, and she gritted her teeth.

“I won’t let that happen. I promise. But first, you just need to get past this first step.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Hey, I never said it wouldn’t be sad.~~
> 
> Apparently, I actually did make my mum cry on my first night home after I was born because I just slept through the whole night and it wasn’t what she was expecting. She even called the doctor in the middle of the night the way Petra went running to Circe.
> 
> And if you haven’t guessed it already, Erskine comes from a family of Greek Mythology nerds. Hell, his mother wasn’t even satisfied with Greece, she had to name her cat after Jörmungandr, a serpent from Nordic myth, who actually did turn into a cat at some point.
> 
> I am also a mythology nerd, if you can’t tell. Heh…


End file.
